On Wings of a Prayer
by Lucinda
Summary: AU post s4 BtVS. Faith ends up in LA, starting over. But what she really needs is someone to talk to. Crossover with Disney's Gargoyles.
1. Fresh Start

Author: Lucinda  
  
Rating: PG 13  
  
Main Characters: Faith, Thailog  
  
Pairing: none yet, may make casual mention of past relationships.   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Disney's Gargoyles  
  
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Wic, Paula - anyone else please ask first.  
  
Note: I am changing some things from the original BtVS/AtS and Gargoyles storylines. You have been warned. This means everything for Thailog after the Coney Island battle, and everything after the Faith-Buffy body swap.  
  
  
  
Faith let out her breath slowly, feeling her pulse roaring in her ears. That had been the most horrible ordeal of her life, worse than running from Kakistos, than fighting Kakistos, worse than fighting Buffy. She'd just been on trial in a California court of law. On trial for just about everything that had happened in Sunnydale, and the verdict would decided her future, if she even had a future.  
  
She was free. Well, not entirely free, and she wasn't supposed to leave the state of California unless there was some sort of emergency, and supposed to check in with a social worker regularly and let someone know before she moved anywhere, but she wasn't being sent to jail. A few matters about Sunnydale's evidence amounting to a hill of beans and some other teens not liking her, and the fact that she'd only turned seventeen that year. All of her alleged crimes - which she knew full well she was guilty of most if not all of the charges, had been committed as a minor, under extreme mental stress. There had even been some Psychiatrist in this severe looking suit explaining that having been present at the horrible murder of her adopted mother - her Watcher, Faith was clearly suffering from Post Traumatic Stress, as evidenced by her erratic behavior and the gaps in her memory. Gaps that were far safer than trying to explain about vampires, demons and Slayers.  
  
But what would she do with her life now? She was still the... a Slayer, so there would still be the fighting to keep the world from getting sucked into hell, killing vampires and all that, but... What else was there? She'd already had it proven that she needed to have somebody there for her, someone to keep her remembering that while she was the Slayer, she was still human. And the Council was out. They'd tried to have her taken out of the country and killed; even Wesley had given up on her. There would be no help from that direction. Angel... he meant well, but he wasn't a good point of reference for humanity either.  
  
Looking skyward, Faith sighed. "I'm glad that I'm not going to prison, but it might be nice to have somebody I could talk to about all of this. About everything. Someone to help me keep my balance." Shaking her head, she made her way towards the little hotel room, doubting that anything... any being had heard her words, or would care.  
  
Of course, she would still need a place to live, somewhere to stay, to keep stuff. Hopefully a place that was halfway safe, and somewhere that she could keep slaying equipment. Maybe somewhere that didn't have any lousy neighbors... Of course, at that rate, she'd almost have to buy a whole big empty building. Maybe that was why so many of the vamps in cities laired in warehouses and empty buildings, to avoid noisy neighbors? Or nosy neighbors... no, those would just end up mid-day snacks. She should be able to manage that, it turned out that Dick had left her a nice inheritance. No land, but bank accounts, stock investments, some books and 'artwork' from his collection... She could afford to live for a good long while, but that didn't solve the question of where.  
  
She hurried back to catch the lawyer, wanting to figure out if there would be any particular legal hoops to go through to buy some property, considering that she was still a minor. Of course, if they were willing to try her as if she were an adult, you'd think she should be able to do something as simple as buy some land, but sometimes things just didn't work that way. You're still too young to do anything, but you have to go fight demons, go fulfill your destiny... You can't drive, but you can go die for the whole damn world...  
  
That ended up taking close to an hour with the lawyer, and in the end, the conclusion was that she would need another lawyer to assist with her purchase; just to make certain that everybody was satisfied. It was very frustrating, but she would be able to buy a place... once she found one. That brought up the question of realtors, and she ended up walking out of the first office when the guy she tried to talk to couldn't look higher than her chest. The second office was smaller, and looked a bit worn, but the people seemed polite, and helpful. They were talking about possibilities when the other of the two agents, both older women, looked up, a tiny smile on her face.  
  
"What about the Keller property? You said that you wanted some space... there was an artist who bought and converted a warehouse into a combination home and studio. It has all the utilities, and plenty of space, not much in the line of neighbors either. It's in a bit of a quiet section of town... Maybe you'd like to take a look at it?"  
  
Faith blinked, smiling as her mind tried to picture having that much space all to herself. "It sounds pretty good, but maybe I should take a look at it. Could I get the address? Is it all structurally sound inside?"  
  
"Of course, dear. It's locked, so you'd need one of us to take a look inside, but there's nothing to stop you from having a bit of a drive by." The lady that had brought it up beamed, handing some papers over with information on the property. Her nametag read Penelope. "Feel free to call us if you have any questions."  
  
Faith was thinking about the idea as she left. A converted warehouse could be almost perfect. If it was in decent shape, if it wasn't infested with demons, if... There were a whole lot of if's, actually. But she could settle some of them right now, with a simple detour. Go by the place, take a good hard look around. That should give her a little idea of the sort of neighborhood, and she'd be able to feel something if it was being used as the lair of some sort of evil fiend or demon. And if the inside was a mess, she could clean and repaint. If the whole place was a wreck, she didn't have to buy it.  
  
The neighborhood was actually... well, mostly warehouses, a bar over a few blocks, and some factories. Not much in the line of people, which sounded just about perfect as far as she was concerned. The building itself was in pretty decent shape, although there were some bright splashes of graffiti. She didn't pick up any demonic presences, although there were some freaky looking statues along the roof.  
  
Checking to make certain nobody was watching, she jumped to catch the fire escape, and rapidly made her way to the roof. The statues appeared to be gargoyles, not like the waterspouts, but large creatures that were so incredibly detailed that they looked as if they could open their eyes and move if they wanted. Half furled wings, powerful tails, wicked looking talons and in one case, a beak, gave a menacing look, but details of clothing, jewelry, ringlets of hair on one female sculpture made them seem less like monsters, and more like people. One of them even looked as if he was in some sort of armor. There were also smaller, cruder shapes, as if Keller had been making smaller copies and hadn't quite finished carving away.  
  
The place looked pretty good to her. She'd have to have one of the ladies give her the tour of inside, and then she'd have to talk to that lawyer again. But this could be a very good place for her. She could hardly wait.  
  
End part 1.  
  
Faith almost didn't realize that her patrol took her back to that section of town. It wasn't until the stupid vampire minion flung her into a wall with oddly familiar graffiti that she realized that she was right back at the place she might buy. And the walls seemed pretty solid. She returned the favor, slamming the minion into the wall and then staking him while he was dazed. As she began to walk away, Faith turned to take another look at the building.  
  
Something was different.  
  
Frowning, she tried to figure out what had changed. Graffiti covered walls, locked door with a chain, a few windows made with that greenish glass that didn't let in much light, a couple statues on the roof… Wait. Hadn't there been more statues this afternoon?  
  
Faith made her way to the building, leaping up again to climb the fire escape. As she pulled herself on to the roof, she tried very carefully to extend her senses, in hopes of not being ambushed by… something. Anything. It didn't feel like anything was waiting for her, but there was something off. Slowly, Faith made her way across the roof, looking at the statues, trying to compare the scene with this afternoon. Some of the statues were missing, and she gradually noticed a pattern.  
  
All the missing ones were the statues that had been the most realistic, the ones that had almost looked like they should be able to move. With a small shiver, she remembered something else – they'd had wings. So… nine winged not-statues, about the size of a human, with talons. And she had no idea what they were, or if they were dangerous. Oh, this was just… great.  
  
Skin prickling with unease, Faith made her way back to the ground, and returned to her patrol. Things like that almost made her wish that she still had a Watcher. Someone that could answer the questions of 'What is it? Is it dangerous? How do I kill it?'  
  
And in the air, Thailog glided along a current with the horned gargoyle Amon, one of the members of the gargoyle clan that he'd found in Los Angeles. He'd watched as the human had moved over the rooftop, her movements making it clear that she was searching for something. While the clan here didn't fully trust him, this could potentially be… troublesome.  
  
"Amon. There was a human on the rooftop. The one where we sleep." He pointed to the moving figure.  
  
Looking down at the woman below, Amon changed the angle of his glide slightly, almost following her. "That could complicate things. Especially if she figures out that there are more statues during the day."  
  
Almost, Thailog asked what one human could do. But he knew better. One human, in a fight against a gargoyle, would loose. One human might also have the resources and connections to make a lot of trouble. After all, Xanatos was only one human. Anton Sevarius was only one human. That annoying detective that Goliath was so fond of was just one human. "We need to know more about her."  
  
"Indeed." The sand hued gargoyle chuckled. "Then I think you have a project to occupy your time."  
  
Thailog only shook his head, unsurprised. The clan here had let him stay with them, but they did not entirely trust him. Especially suspicious was Corra, the beaked female with the wicked chess game. So, was this assignment to learn more about the woman a gesture of near trust, or an attempt to keep him out of the way? "A project… that's one way to look at it."  
  
Either way, it was easily worth such a task, to have a place, even if a bit grudging, in a clan. He hadn't wanted to believe it at first, but there was some truth in the things that Hudson had claimed. Gargoyles were not meant to be alone, but part of a clan. He hadn't felt the urge to plot anything deviously dangerous or any sort of attempt to take over corporations, small countries, or even the clan since he'd been here. Only part of that was because Amon was a well respected leader.  
  
Smiling for the first time since his near death at that horrible amusement park, Thailog began to follow the woman. He didn't know if she could be considered remotely trustworthy, but it would be something different to do with his time.  
  
End part 2.  
  
The feeling of the air under his wings was wonderful, as always. Almost, it could make up for the helplessness that claimed all gargoyles as the sun rose. He followed the dark haired woman, part of his mind comparing her movements to everything he could think of, trying to figure out why she was out and about. She didn't move like a prostitute, or someone claimed by fear. There was no submission in her. No, it would be closer to say that she was hunting, but it wasn't the sort of movements that he'd seen in countless gang members and bullies. No, there was something else to her… Something strange and powerful and dangerous.  
  
But who was she dangerous to? What was she hunting?  
  
That would be the key. The woman moved with confidence, the body language of a hunter, a predator. She would either be a good ally or a dangerous enemy, and it was very important to know which. But how could he tell from here? How could he tell unless she did something more than simply prowling through the streets and allies?   
  
"Just do something, woman. Do something that I can take some of your measure." The words were a faint growl into the air, impossible to hear on the ground.  
  
But perhaps fate had heard him. He saw a hint of motion, and then a pair of creatures moved in an alley. They left something, and he detoured slightly, so that he could look into the alley and see what they'd left. Gazing down, he saw a barrel full of fire, and beside it, a homeless man. No, it was the body of a man, his arms splayed out, blood splashed over the concrete, his entrails ripped open… Where were the rest of his innards? There were several gaping holes, as well as a large chunk gone from his throat….  
  
Thailog felt nausea flood his body as he realized the scuttling things had been eating the human. Quickly, he turned, certain that the only acceptable thing would be to try to keep the things from killing and eating another human. The clan would insist on it. And cowardice was unacceptable.  
  
The clicking noise was the first thing he heard when he landed, the noise of teeth clacking together. The things were thin, all lean bones covered with rough dark hide, like cracked leather, long hands with sharp talons. One of them lunged for the woman, and she spun into a kick, her foot connecting with it's shoulder, sending it towards a wall. The second lunged towards her, hoping to strike from the rear.  
  
The talons didn't connect. Thailog moved towards it, his fist hitting right between the shoulder blades of the skinny killer. It dropped to the ground, and rolled, trying to regain it's footing. Blood was smeared over it's muzzle and hands, and beedy dark eyes glared at him with hunger, rage, and an unsettling lack of intelligence. This was no thinking creature, only a feral hunting thing.  
  
And it was fast. Not terribly strong, but it was definitely faster than he was. Soon, he had dozens of little slashes, all of them shallow, but they stung and bled. He had to figure out some sort of weakness that this thing had, something that he could use against it.  
  
Then, the other one was propelled into the one facing him, and they fell to the alley in a tangled heap of flailing limbs. The dark haired woman was there, almost pouncing with a drawn blade, which she stabbed at the bodies with. It was as if she wasn't certain where to aim, or perhaps she figured enough wounds would bleed them to death.  
  
Whatever her reasoning, she seemed to have a good idea. The flailing changed, becoming weaker, and a spreading pool of something greenish and foul was seeping from beneath the creatures. Gradually, they stopped moving.  
  
Thailog stood there, his wounds burning, staring at the woman. While none of the wounds would be bad individually, all together they hurt, and would notably weaken him. And he doubted that he would be able to get to the air before she could attack him if that was her intent. She was staring at him, blade still in hand, her eyes wide as she looked over him. Not wide with fear, but there was surprise.  
  
Her gaze slowed, lingering over the bit of shoulder armor that he wore, and there was a small frown, as if…  
  
"You were stone today. Now… now you aren't. What are you?" Her words emerged slowly, as if she found them almost impossible sounding.  
  
"A gargoyle." His voice was a deep rumble that almost but didn't quite seem to startle her. More as if she hadn't been quite certain that he would answer.  
  
"And you speak English. Good, I suppose, that always does make the whole communicating thing easier…" She shook her head slightly, the weapon moving to a less threatening position. She didn't put it away, so it was apparent that she didn't quite trust him, but she seemed to be giving him some doubt, or maybe it was opportunity. "So… for those of us who… well, are me, what is a gargoyle? Why were you stone before, and not now?"  
  
"You asked why I was stone before… I don't know why gargoyles become stone during the daylight." He shrugged, thinking that if only Sevarius had devised an answer to that, instead of figuring out how to clone them… But if Anton Sevarius were inclined towards helping people… well, might as well ask what if the moon were truly made of green cheese. "We are… I suppose the best way to describe it is to say that we are a race of non-human sentients. There have been gargoyles… well, the version that I heard was that there had always been gargoyles. We…" Thailog paused, part of him not wanting to trust this woman, and another part knowing that she would demand answers. It might be wise to give her as little information as possible… "Gargoyles are a dwindling species. There have been a great many causes of this… Most of them amount to humans."  
  
"Which means that you're probably trying to figure out whether or not this blade is going to be headed your way." She had this little ironic smirk.  
  
"I do not fear any single human in combat." He pulled himself straighter, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked down to the shorter woman.  
  
"Cocky, aren't you?" She was smiling. "I have the same problem, so that's not too bad. What am I supposed to call you anyhow?"  
  
"I am Thailog." He felt this odd mix of emotions. A part of him was trying to quash the unease and worry that the whole situation was causing. Another part seemed… almost proud that she wasn't afraid. And he was definitely curious. "Who are you, and what were those…. Creatures?"  
  
"Some sort of demon… not too sure what sort." She shrugged, sort of glancing over at the bodies. "Lots of types of demons, and more than half of them are dangerous to humans. Some… like those bad boys, think human belongs on the menu. I sort of object to that. I'm Faith."  
  
"Faith…" He tried the name out, not entirely certain if it suited her. "And what is your opinion on gargoyles, Faith who fights demons?  
  
"Well…" She tilted her head a bit, as it trying to sort out her thoughts. "You… I'm going to guess that the other missing statues are also gargoyles. You don't all look alike, and you definitely look… well, I don't think I'm going to be picking any fights with your kind. Not unless… I got this destiny thing. I go out, and when I find some nasty preying on people, something that the cops aren't equipped to deal with, that's my job."  
  
"I didn't think most humans had jobs like that." There was something that she wasn't saying. Probably a lot of things. "Why do you?"  
  
Faith shrugged. "Sometimes, life just sucks like that. Anyhow, I get the thankless job of killing the nasties that go bump, and a lot of them bump more after dark, if you catch my drift. What had you right here in time to join in the fight?"  
  
"I was following you." He watched her, noting the way her grip shifted a little, as if preparing for something. "Humans are…. Unpredictable as a whole."  
  
"Let me guess… what is she up to? Are you supposed to take me out if you decide I'm all dangerous?" She was watching him, her gaze flickering over him, eyeing his muscles.  
  
"I'm already certain that you're dangerous, Faith. The question is… who are you dangerous to? What do you hunt?" He almost purred the words.  
  
"Anyone that gets in my way." She smirked, her voice taking on an almost sultry note. "See you later, Thailog… I've got a patrol to finish."  
  
He found himself just watching her leave, still having more questions than answers. But she was definitely… something. He would be thinking a lot about Faith. As he took to the air once more, it occurred to him that he still couldn't be absolutely certain that she wasn't a danger to the clan.  
  
End part 3.  
  
Faith found herself smiling as she made her slow way back to the hotel. Patrol was… well, it was patrol. After those two unknown demons that Thailog had helped her kill, she ran into several vampires, including one small pack of four. She'd staked three of them, the last being a sneaky, cowardly, smart one and running away while she was killing his pals. Those were the frustrating ones.  
  
Of course, Thailog had raised all sorts of questions in her mind. A gargoyle… a person that wasn't human, had never been human. And there were more of them… they'd been resting… been stone on that warehouse. Stone by day, flesh and blood by night.  
  
That warehouse was sounding better all the time. Lots of space, not too many neighbors… at least in the day, good area for hunting, and plenty of room for her stuff. It was just about perfect. It even came with it's own mystery… gargoyles. What did you call a group of gargoyles anyhow? A pack? A pride, like lions? A flock, like bats, or a pod like whales?  
  
Oh yeah, she was definitely buying that warehouse. And that Thailog had been sort of cute… in a definitely not human sort of way. Lots of muscles, strong cheekbones… Great voice. He could certainly make life interesting.  
  
She had a plan now. Get back to the hotel, have a hot shower. And after some decent sleep, call up lawyer boy so she could buy a property, call up the real estate ladies to get the Keller warehouse. She hoped it wouldn't take too long to get the title, get the keys, and move in.  
  
"You haven't seen the last of me, Thailog." Pausing a moment, she realized just how much that line sounded like something from a cheesy villain, and started laughing.  
  
Maybe she'd best hope that the line wasn't an omen of things to come. Thailog had made a good fighting partner against those demons, even if it had been entirely by coincidence. Maybe… maybe she wouldn't have to patrol alone. Maybe she could have someone to talk to, someone that would listen to the whole Slayer mess without thinking she was insane. Maybe…  
  
Enough maybes. The certainty was that life was about to get interesting again. Faith couldn't wait.  
  
End part 4.  
  
End Wings of a Prayer: Fresh Start. 


	2. Reaching Out

Author: Lucinda

Rating: PG 13

Main Characters: Faith, Thailog

second in 'Wings of a Prayer' storyline.

Pairing: none yet, may make casual mention of canon past relationships.

Disclaimer: All people from BtVS were created by Joss Whedon & his writers, all characters from the Gargoyles animated series belong to Buena Vista/Disney. In short, if they appeared on the TV, they don't belong to me.

Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, Wic, Paula - anyone else please ask first.

Note: I am changing some things from the original BtVS/AtS and Gargoyles storylines. You have been warned. This means everything for Thailog after the Coney Island battle, and everything after the Faith-Buffy body swap.

Sunset freed them from their sleep, and Thailog flung his wings and arms out with a roar. The waking cries of nine gargoyles echoed along the streets, startling a flock of birds to fly up and away, though they would soon settle down elsewhere to sleep.

"What did you decide about the woman?" Amon's voice carried through the night air, filled with other questions.

"She moves like someone who hunts, and with no sign of fear," Thailog began, uncertain how to explain the woman who'd called herself Faith. It would have been far easier if he was certain what to think of her himself. "While I was trying to follow her, I saw... two creatures, lean and bony things. They had killed one of the homeless folk."

"More demons," Corra hissed, talons flexing. "As dangerous as the humans can be, and less predictable."

"You attacked the demons, as any gargoyle warrior would do. What happened then?" Amon walked towards the edge of the roof, his arms folded and his wings pulled straight behind him.

Thailog felt himself smirking as he remembered how that had unfolded. "As it happened, she also attacked the demons, and she had a sword."

"A sword? But humans gave up on swords," yelped Pisce, the clan's only youngling, who still had a decade to go before he would be counted as an adult.

"She had a sword, and she knew how to use it," Thailog growled. "She wasn't quite certain where they were most vulnerable, but she did as much damage to them as I did, and took fewer injuries."

"What sort of injuries, Thailog?" Amon had a frown now, the worried look of a clan leader fretting over a possible weakness in his warriors.

"They had claws, and they were close to ten feet tall, with long arms. Little cuts. Any wound alone would have been nothing, but when you pick up a few dozen because they have such long arms and I had no weapon..."

"She didn't attack you after the demons," Once again, Amon wasn't asking. "What did happen?"

"She asked what I was, and why I was flesh then when I had been stone before. She was... wary, but willing to listen to what I would say," Thailog replied.

"And what did you tell her?" Corra asked, looking over the city.

"Only truth, but not all the truth," Thailog moved to the little wall that ran around the roof, and sighed. "I said that I was a gargoyle, that we were another species. A species of dwindling numbers. That I don't know why gargoyles are stone by day. And that my name is Thailog, and she told me that she was Faith."

"Is she dangerous?" Tereza's voice was low, and she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Dangerous in that she is a confident and skilled warrior, yes. Dangerous to us? I'm not certain. I don't think that she'll make the first attack," Thailog murmured.

"If she knew that you had been stone and were now flesh, she saw us asleep. We must either find a new sleeping place or trust in her not attacking while we sleep," Amon shook his head. "I will not choose our fate without hearing what the rest of you think."

Thailog hid a wince as the argument began. "While you discuss this, why don't I go see if I can find where the woman is now and what she's up to. For my own thoughts, if she didn't come after us today, she's obviously not planning to do so unless something changes."

As he took to the air, he wondered if they'd have reached a decision by sunrise.

end part 1.

Faith walked along the sidewalk, feeling the stake in her boot rubbing against her anklebone. She was definitely going to need a better way to stash those. It was just too bad that stakes thin enough to hide by sticking them in her hair like those fancy sticks were too flimsy to use as anything other than a last resort. Also too bad that life didn't work like that one television show with the immortal people carting around swords under their trenchcoats – all through the year, with no revealing long solid parts, no inconvenient metal detectors, nobody noticing that they've got a sword under their coat… But it would be a great trick if she could do it.

She felt the vampire before it attacked. It was lean and feral, mad yellow eyes glaring at her with straggly hair falling in messy dreadlocks to thin shoulders covered in a ragged shirt with a cracked peace sign. It looked like a scrawny, unwashed hippy protestor from a few decades back, and fought like crazy. Nasty claws, horrible breath… The initial pounce smacked her into a wall, giving her the momentary thought that maybe it was a good thing she didn't have a bar of metal across her spine.

It wasn't easy to kill. It writhed and clawed at her, leaving several gouges in the wall, some long slashes in her heavy denim jacket, a couple that had scored her shoulder underneath that, they'd rolled over a set of concrete steps that Faith was sure would leave bruises across her hips and elbows, as well as thumping her head against the wall. The damn vampire seemed to have a rubber spine and double jointed everything, and Faith had to stab it three times before it finally fell into dust.

"Sometimes, you shouldn't give peace a chance. What sort of devious vampire thought turning political activists was a bright idea?" Faith wiped at her legs, hoping that no large bits of trash were clinging to her, and winced as the smaller cuts on the front of her shoulders stung. "Damn, now I'm bleeding…"

Those claws had caught her skin, drawn blood. Apart from the fact that God only knew what sort of nastiness had been on those filthy claws, the scent of blood would draw vampires and demons like nothing else. "Looks like patrol tonight will be busy…"

An hour later, she'd killed another ten vampires, two lamprey faced demons that stank of old seaweed and dirty gym socks, some sort of half rotted dog-lizard thing with six legs, spines along its back, and double rows of sharp teeth, and managed not to kill the drunken idiot who thought she was a whore. Her jacket was probably a lost cause, repeatedly slashed by vampire claws, covered in blood, vampire ashes, bits of rotting dog-lizard, and the damp muck that had been in an alley behind a bar – Faith really didn't want to know what it was.

More frustrating, she could feel that something was following her. She just had no idea what it was, where it was, or what it wanted. That annoyed her.

She'd just have to take that annoyance out on the vampire lurking in that alley over there, the one dressed like a cheap tramp and looking about thirteen – damn but there were some sick bastards out there. It almost made her feel sorry for the vampire, or the girl that she'd once been. Not sorry enough not to slay, but…

Sorry enough not to notice the other vampires trying to circle around behind her until they'd blocked off the end of the alley. Almost a dozen of them, looking just worn and shabby enough to be ignored if they weren't grinning just like they were now, and cracking knuckles of big hands and trying to loom at her, to scare her.

Damn, she hated getting surrounded.

End part 2.

Thailog had followed Faith for over an hour, watching as she fought and killed demons and vampires. She was a very skilled warrior, and he was certain that she was far stronger than a human woman should be, from the way that a few of the demons had been thrown into walls. Such a warrior could either be a deadly foe or a useful ally…

Movement caught his eyes, and Thailog frowned as he realized the movement was caused by more vampires. They seemed to be surrounding Faith, and he wondered what was drawing them to her. There weren't usually so many that caught his notice in a night, but he had already watched Faith kill almost a dozen tonight. To see so many vampires now preparing to surround and ambush the woman… While it was sound strategy, he disliked vampires.

As the vampires tried to intimidate her, he swooped down, waiting until they were almost close enough to touch before he roared, knowing that the sudden sound would throw them off balance. He could take advantage of their surprise to claw and strike. One fell to ashes after he clawed across its throat, while the others reeled back, swearing and hissing.

"Nice timing," Faith called, stabbing a vampire in the back with a sharp piece of wood.

"I thought there might be enough for me to have a few without depriving you of your fun," He didn't want to ruffle her pride by saying that she looked in need of rescue. Not only would that irritate most warriors, he didn't know how she would react to such irritation. He also wasn't certain it would be wise to admit to following her.

She laughed as she kicked a vampire, stabbing another who had tried to circle behind her in the same motion. "By all means, but get them while they last. You either need to dust 'em quick or they scuttle away like cockroaches when someone flips on the lights."

Between the two of them, they managed to kill all of the vampires, not letting any of them escape. Thailog was also certain that Faith was stronger than she should be, and harder to injure. He'd seen what vampire fists could do to humans, and Faith had been hit several times. None of her bones had broken, she hadn't collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. One of them had caught his wing, leaving the joint sore and stiffening. It was nothing that the stone sleep couldn't heal, provided nothing killed him before sunrise.

"This is the second time I've seen you out hunting for demons," he commented, not quite facing her. "It seems like a dangerous habit."

"Not so much a habit as a destiny," she murmured. "And I can't trade it in for a new one."

"A destiny? How… odd," Thailog wondered what she could mean by that. "Perhaps we should go somewhere less… exposed and talk?"

For a few moments, she considered him, her eyes full of emotions and danger. Then she gave a quick grin, "Lead the way."

End part 3.

They ended up sitting on the top of an abandoned warehouse. As a gargoyle, Thailog liked the height and the feeling of the air over his wings, and it was isolated enough that Faith didn't need to worry about people eavesdropping on their conversation. She was also fairly certain that there weren't any demons or vampires in the warehouse at the moment.

After a few quiet moments, Thailog decided that he'd break the quiet. Glancing at Faith, he stated, "You mentioned a destiny when you said it wasn't just a habit to hunt vampires. What did you mean by that?"

"I guess you already know that humans aren't the only smart things out there, and you know about vampires and demons," Faith began, pausing for a few moments. "Normally I have to start with covering that part to someone."

"I've always known that humans weren't the only intelligent beings, though the vampires were an unwelcome surprise," Thailog admitted.

"Scattered here and there are people who fight them. Most of them are just… normal people, maybe better trained with weapons, and maybe they have someone who knows a bit of magic, but humans. Then there's the Slayer. I was told that it's supposed to be one Slayer in all the world, that it's been that way forever. But I don't know if I trust them about there only being one before B's little accident and forever just means since before we started keeping records. For now, I'm the Slayer."

"Little accident? One in the world… What exactly is a Slayer?" Thailog was frowning as he tried to follow Faith's explanation.

"A Slayer is the Chosen one, picked by Fate or Destiny or whatever you want to call it. I lost at the cosmic dice. As a Slayer, I'm stronger, faster, tougher and I can feel the demons and vampires. All the better to hunt and kill them. It keeps going like that until I die and then someone else gets the job," Faith was staring at her sleeve, fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "I don't know how a Slayer is Chosen, but I didn't have the chance to refuse. I was just stronger one morning. You can't refuse, and you can't quit."

"Medicine is much better than it once was. How dead does someone need to be to make this work? If someone was treated in a hospital…" He let his mind shuffle through what he knew of medicine and treating injuries and accidents.

"She drowned, for a few moments. One of her friends gave her CPR and she pulled through, but that was enough to pass on the bad destiny. I wonder if that was the first time a Slayer ever had someone close enough and worried enough to try to save her when the odds caught up to her. A bunch of stuffy people who don't much care for any given Slayer are supposed to keep track of the demons, to help guide and teach Slayers what they need to know. I was told there was only one Slayer, but if there's more than one, why would we need to know that? I mean, if we think that we're the only thing standing in the way of the end of the world, we might work a bit harder than if it was us and half a dozen other people across the world, you know?" One hand brushed over her stomach, and for a moment she was silent before whispering, "Sometimes it's better not to know how bad injuries were. Maybe there's more now."

"How do you decide what to fight?" Thailog asked, needing the information to better protect his clan.

"Well, they generally get put on the 'slay now' list if they attack me, or if I see them trying to eat humans. The ones that are evil have… I guess an evil feeling to them, it makes my bones feel like they're shivering. I didn't get that from you guys. I like not getting the evil vibe from people, especially not when they're all big, strong and have sharp claws," Faith gave him a weak and lopsided smile.

Thailog had to chuckle at her comment, "I can see where that might be comforting. As I was told, we are warriors, meant to protect and defend our clan, our territory, and our allies. Now, gargoyles have fewer allies, and must hide from most humans."

"So where do gargoyles come from? Did someone create your people with major magic, like Slayers were created, or… did gargoyles just happen, like how humans are here? God, or evolution, or aliens seeding the planet, or whatever," Faith asked.

"The stories vary. Hudson once said that when the world was new, the humans were weak and in great danger, and so God took pity on them, and shaped some of the stones into gargoyles to defend them in the darkness. That this was why our flesh becomes stone, and why we seek to protect. Amon tells a different story, that when the earth was still being shaped and the stone that forms the bones of the earth was being split apart to form soil, some of the pieces were larger, and grew into the first gargoyles. A human that I once knew believed it was all a matter of evolution and science. As for the truth, who can tell? Gargoyles have existed for thousands of years of recorded history," Thailog spoke, and as he gestured, his wings moved, causing him to hiss as the movement caused his wing joint to throb. "Blasted vampires…"

For several long moments, Faith was quiet, turning over his words and what she'd seen and felt from him. Her words were soft, "Allies are always good. Especially if there's swarms of vamps like that running around. I bought that warehouse, the one your clan was sleeping on. Maybe we can watch each others' backs."

"I like the idea," Thailog smiled, "and I will tell the others when I get home."

"Might as well head back together, since we're going to the same place," Faith stood up, brushing at the back of her pants.

Both of them were hoping that they weren't making a huge mistake, hoping that they had found someone that they could trust. Neither of them willing to mention their past failings and misdeeds, both ready to start fresh.

End part 4.

End Wings of a Prayer 2: Reaching Out.


	3. Fragile Beginnings

…..

"Faith claims that she is something called a Slayer, that she has been chosen for an unfortunate and dangerous destiny," Thailog offered to the rest of the Los Angeles clan. "She also said that she has purchased the warehouse where we had been resting, the one used by the artist Keller."

"Do you believe her?" asked Corra.

"You say she is the Slayer? How interesting..." mused elder Tanglemane, her claws combing at the long twists and tangles of her hair. "I have heard that term before."

"So what is a Slayer? And is there more than one?" asked Pisce.

Tanglemane chuckled, "A warrior-woman. Empowered by an ancient working of magic, given strength, resilience and speed beyond any human. They fight demons and foul magic."

"What about gargoyles?" Amon looked to their elder.

"I have spoken to three of those who are to be guides to Slayers, and one Slayer, long ago when I was still a youngling of the clan. The Slayer told me that they protect those who can't protect themselves, that they protect from things that most humans no longer believe real. That she never attacked an unknown unless she had seen it attacking a human first. But other Slayers have been swifter to attack those who were not human."

"Can we trust this Faith?" fretted Capran.

"Slayers have never been known for being subtle. She has not attacked you, has she?" Tanglemane turned to face Thailog.

"No. She stated that she did not attack unless she was first attacked, or if she saw something attacking someone. She also said that from the looks of us by sunlight, she would rather not be picking fights with gargoyles," Thailog smirked.

"You believe her," Tanglemane turned the words into a statement.

"I believe that she gets into enough fights already. That she considers us dangerous. That if she had wanted to attack us, she would have already tried," Thailog offered.

"Sensible enough," Amon shook his head. "So, will we return to the warehouse and see if we can live with Faith in a way similar to how we lived with Keller?"

The resulting discussion was lively, loud, and lasted for several hours before anything resembling a decision was reached.

end part 1.

Faith took possession of the warehouse around noon. That sounded impressive, but it turned out to be no more than collecting a ring of keys from Penelope, testing them each - the little brass one went to the chain on the door, and the three identical silver ones went to the door itself. Faith then took her duffel into the building and looked around, feeling a sense of relief at having her place instead of a rented room with too-thin walls between herself and the neighbors.

Large portions of the interior were open space, broken with the occasional support pillar. The far wall was covered with layers of boxes, some of them no bigger than shoeboxes while others looked big enough that Thailog could have been standing upright inside with room all the way around him. Some of the boxes were labeled with collections of numbers and letters, but none of them meant anything to Faith.

She could recognize some of the equipment in the nearer areas, in front of the boxes. There were big sections of canvas, some of them set on easels. There were blocks of stone and collections of hammers and chisels and files. Another section had a potter's wheel, several shelves with an assortment of pots and vases and bowls, and a large blocky thing that might be some sort of oven-type thing. Faith thought the term for a ceramics-oven was kiln or kilt, but she wasn't quite sure.

A couple hesitant questions had produced the information that Jeremy Keller had been an eccentric artist, that he had a modest bank account and investment portfolio that went to his estranged son, but the warehouse and all the contents were of no interest, so it was being sold 'as-is'. That Keller had been the victim of a drunk-driver, who'd lost control and flipped their car into the front of a grocery store, hitting three people and causing another four to be injured by debris. Keller and one other person had died, the third now had a permanent limp, and the drunk driver would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

Faith thought the drunk had got off lightly.

A much smaller area of the inside had been sectioned off into rooms, with a second floor and a storage area added in over the rooms. There were three upper rooms, one of them with a bed, one with a futon, and one with some rolled up sleeping bags and shelves holding clean sheets and blankets, as well as towels. The bedroom with a bed had an attached full bathroom with a rounded tub big enough to soak inside. Between the futon-room and the room with spare blankets was another bathroom, this one with a sink, toilet and huge shower, though no tub. The shower just might be big enough for a gargoyle. Below the sectioned bedrooms was an area converted to a kitchen, semi divided by long counters, some of the counter space with backless barstools. A few couches, chairs, and some end-tables and lamps rounded out the living area, with some bookshelves and area rugs.

There was no television. No big stereo, though there was a portable little CD player radio near the kitchen sink. There were some dishes, silverware, and assorted cups, but the refrigerator was bare of everything except a box of baking soda.

The first thing Faith did was arrange for the utilities to get turned back on, which killed a few hours. She did some sweeping and dusting during those hours, and made a list of what she'd need to buy.

She'd then made heavy use of the car that she'd rented for the week, buying some new clothing and a lot of groceries. She wasn't the world's best cook, but she could do some things, and it was a lot better that trying to find a restaurant or calling for pizza every time she was hungry.

"Not too shabby for my very own place," Faith grinned.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to get the things that Dick had left for her. For today...

For today she'd need to do a bit of cleaning. Not too much, for a building that had been shut up for over a month, it was remarkably clean.

Then again, she thought that there was a roof access. A roof access plus gargoyles hanging out on the roof...

Sure enough, the roof access had the exact same lock as the front doors. Faith had the suspicion that there was a fourth key to her place, and the fourth key was held by the gargoyles who'd been resting on the rooftop.

"Just how well did you guys know each other, and who's idea was it that they had the key?" Faith looked again at the non-living statues. And then she wondered just how gargoyles multiplied - did they have little gargoyles? Start out as statues and become alive? Grow from spores like mushrooms?

Snickering at the last one, Faith decided that they probably had no connection to mushrooms at all, and went back downstairs.

She wondered if they'd come back.

end part 2.

Faith slept late, waking somewhere around one in the afternoon. Making her way to the kitchen, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and started back upwards. This time, she was heading for the roof, to take a look at the area. Get a sense of the place, enjoy the sunshine… not look at the same inside walls. Maybe she'd sit near all the smaller sized gargoyle statues and enjoy her cereal.

Among the smaller statues were two big ones. Statues that hadn't been there yesterday, but had been the first day she'd seen the place. In fact, one of them looked remarkably like Thailog…

"Wait, didn't he say stone by day?" Faith moved closer, looking at the big stone shape. Same shoulder armor. Same long hair and proud nose, same square chin. Either it was Thailog, or someone had made a remarkably good imitation and put it onto her roof without waking her.

"Okay, that's a bit weird." Faith shook her head, and settled on a stone bench, looking at the two big shapes while eating her cereal. They didn't talk, didn't move, didn't give any sign that they weren't stone statues, just like the smaller ones. "Weird and a little creepy."

The second statue-gargoyle was a female, and Faith thought that this one looked older. Her face had deep creases around her eyes and beside her mouth, as well as… Faith couldn't find a better way to describe it than to say that her cheeks looked a bit like a dried apricot, sunken in and wrinkly. Her hair looked like dreadlocks to her waist, with big not quite flat earrings and a similar looking arm band. Her expression was the sort that looked stern and smart at the same time, the way that old time school teachers and governesses were supposed to look, or maybe like the not so evil queen mother in a fairy tale.

Faith decided that watching them just be statues was too weird. Especially when a seagull landed on Thailog's shoulder. With a small shudder, she picked up her empty bowl and went back inside. Halfway down the stairs, a thought occurred to her – "I wonder what happens at sunset?"

Tossing the bowl into the sink, Faith decided that she'd just have to watch and find out. Until then, there was more cleaning to do for her new home. If she finished that and had nothing left to do, she could always start poking into those boxes. The down side of having her own place, by herself – at least, mostly by herself – was that nobody else picked up.

Faith finished taking care of all the dishes, and sweeping away the dust from the furniture and the floor, as well as using a vacuum over the carpet. She hadn't been sure what to think that a vast majority of the dust was less the fluffy household dust and more something closer to powdered concrete. Maybe it had to do with Keller's artistic ways, or maybe the gargoyles on the rooftop. She had towels in both bathrooms, as well as having made certain that there was soap and toilet paper. That had been more than enough cleaning for the day, and she'd gone up to the roof to watch the sunset, and see what happened with Thailog and his friend when the sun went down.

It was actually pretty neat to watch. First, it looked like hundreds of tiny cracks formed in the stone, growing wider with a hint of something that wasn't quite light or dark. Then they seemed to flex, and the stone shattered away from them, not quite a direct fall but not quite an explosion. The shards reached a few feet away, with tiny fragments and dust going much further. At the same time as the stone shards popped away, the gargoyles both roared, their arms flinging backwards, wings and tails flexing. It was almost as if they woke up prepared for an attack.

Thailog was revealed as his dark purple with white haired self, and the older woman was a russet orange, with her hair being mostly grey with a few dark brown streaks and threads.

Thailog turned towards her, and offered a small smile, "Faith. Evening… have you been here long?"

"I was up here earlier, but it was a bit creepy just watching the pair of you be stone," Faith shrugged. "So I came back up for the sunset and to figure out just how you go from complete stone – you had a seagull land on your shoulder – to flesh and blood."

The older gargoyle made a small noise and glanced over her arms, "Should I ask how you know about the blood?"

"Those bony demons the first time I met him," Faith pointed at Thailog and gave a small shrug. "They had wicked nasty claws, and got him more than a few times. He bled. And I bet it hurt."

"It was not the most pleasant experience," Thailog admitted.

"Fights with demons never are," Faith shook her head. "So, does this mean the lot of you are coming back here, or are you just trying to figure out if I'm safe?"

Thailog chuckled, "I already know you aren't safe. But I think if you were going to b a threat to us, you would have already acted."

"I get into plenty of fights already, being a Slayer kind of sucks like that." Faith leaned back against the bench, her eyes drifting over the waist high gargoyle statues that hadn't changed. "And I have to admit that the idea of maybe a little back up has some appeal."

"And it doesn't bother you that we aren't human?" the older woman asked.

"It would have freaked me out a few years back," Faith admitted. "What should I call you? He's Thailog" she tipped her thumb towards him, "but I don't know what to call you. Hey you sounds a bit rude, you know?"

"Not all gargoyle clans have adopted the practice of personal names. In those clans, I would simply be called Elder. But our clan has used names for a few generations, though we don't approach them in the same way that humans do. I will answer to Elder, or to Tanglemane," she replied.

"There is still concern about you among the clan," Thailog admitted.

"Makes sense," Faith murmured. She didn't want to admit that it stung a little not to be trusted. But this wasn't personal, it wasn't because of what she'd done, or because she was the second Slayer. It was because she was human, and humans had been a danger to gargoyles. "I can put together another first aid kit to keep up here, if… do you even use the same medicines, or are there things to stay away from for you that are fine for me?"

"Most work very much the same on gargoyles, we can watch for the exceptions if everything is clearly labeled," Tanglemane assured Faith.

"Fair enough. I'll probably stash it under the bench, where nobody'll trip over it. I'm guessing someone has a key to the door," Faith paused to see if either of them would say anything, and grinned as Thailog shifted his weight in what looked to her like a guilty tell. "Behave, clean up after yourselves, keep it down if I'm asleep, and we should all be five by five."

"Very welcoming of you," Tanglemane gave a small smile.

"Yeah, well… I might put some of you to work helping me figure out what's in all the boxes. The place was sold as is, and there's… a wall of boxes ranging from itty bitty ones to great big boxes. Some of 'em have letters and numbers on them, but that doesn't tell me anything," Faith sighed, and kicked at a shard of stone that had come from one of the gargoyles.

"Probably not something to do while you're sleeping," Thailog gave a grin.

Faith considered that for a moment, and shuddered, "Probably not. Are we five by five?"

"I believe we have come to agreeable terms," Tanglemane replied.

"And I think I might go with you for some of your patrols. If nothing else, you have knowledge that would be good for our clan to know, ways to fight these demons," Thailog added.

"I already know that you're good back-up in a fight." Faith gave a sudden grin, "Thailog, know how to use any weapons?"

Tanglemane began to chuckle.

Thailog sighed, and stared at his toes a moment before mumbling, "Not of the older type."

"S'alright," Faith reached out, her hand resting on his elbow-spike. "Like I said, you're already pretty impressive back-up, and I have the weapons. I can help you pick up a little. Crossbows are a lot like pistols."

"Do you go patrolling every night?" he asked her.

"Unless I get beat up bad or have other stuff come up, at least every other night," Faith admitted.

"Perhaps you could take tonight off and explain a few things to us instead?" Tanglemane asked.

"I guess I could. Maybe inside, so I can grab some books and maps?" Faith offered.

"Of course," Tanglemane gestured towards the door.

Faith decided it felt good not to be alone anymore.

End part 3.

End Wings of a Prayer 3: Fragile Beginnings


End file.
